From a train. Alternate title: Fifty Shades of Grey as read by a bogan. Alternate Alternate Title: I went to High Tea and it was still worth it.

Notes to myself on the way home from a lovely day with my girls dressed as Disney Princesses – Moo was an Evil Aurora, dressed in black with blue hair and Ally was Ariel complete with a fork to brush her hair, I was Maleficent, the evilest of Queens, dressed as a Muggle – for a fabulous Beauty and the Beast High Tea:

OMG it was FABULOUS. And my girls looked amazing and it was so lovely to hug and talk to some of my friends who live inside my MacBook.

And then…

TWO AND A HALF HOURS OF HELL.

Actual notes as I felt my IQ dropping:

It’s like we are travelling through a wormhole into bogan world because as the mobile reception dies the ferals get feraler. I swear to GAH that these fuckers weren’t this bad when I got on the train… Guy in front farting periodically. He likes the smell. I can hear him sniffing it.

Ferals alternating between singing I just met you, reading out their friends Facebook messages and regaling the carriage with a reading of Fifty Shades of Grey.

Empty seats abound but the creepy guy wants to sit next to me. Closer and closer… I can feel his breath on my neck as he looks over my shoulder at my twitter feed. He keeps clearing his throat.

‘it puts the lotion on its skin’…

The babies take turns filling their nappies and screaming with glee, parents exclaiming how clever little Shakira is and that she knows her fucking alphabet already and I don’t give a fuck what that cunt of a doctor says she is GIFTED AND SHIT!

The tradies are staring out the window, they smell worse than the farting dude and the nappies combined and my nose hairs are completely melted at this stage.

Dude next to me realizes that I am really not that into him and moves off to find someone else while the vocal ferals empty an entire packet of breakfast cereal on the floor for the kids dinner and exclaim how they are going to mess some girl up when they get back to town.

AFTER they stop to procure some alcoholic beverages OF COURSE.

I put the call out on twitter whether to read ‘We need to talk about Kevin’ or ‘Hunger Games’ but it is a moot point cause I can’t concentrate due to the trumpeting arses and the dramatic porn reading punctuated with the cries of ‘are we fucking THERE YET? I need a piss’

So I remember the lovely morning and afternoon spent with my girls and my biatches sitting in a fancy restaurant eating fancy food {thankyou Disney} and bury my nose in my scarf to stop the stench liquifying what is left of my brain and count the seconds till I am home.

You totes have to move to the Bendigo line, they run a slightly better class of stinky porn train – little stink, little porn but guaranteed feral bogans with loud mouths on a Sunday evening heading back to Melb.
Hope you get to more high teas, girlie!

You went to the same high tea that my other friend did! I recognise the cakes from pictures she put up.
So yummy looking, mmmmm.
Now I want cake……..
Pity about the stinky porn train ride though, have you recovered enough to start reading? Forget that other book and read Hunger Games.

Read the Belgariad. That always brings me joy.
You may have just freaked me out with how similar this was to the train I used to take to visit home.
During Uni, I started saving the extra for the better class seats on visits home, to avoid having to sit hugging my bag on my lap for emotional protection, hoping for all the scary people to get off before my stop (which was the end of the line) so I could relax for at least part of the trip.
And I always got a Ham and Cheese croissant from the canteen.

Definitely jealous of your stinky porn train.
I bet you could get a few blog posts out of that. I’m running high and dry for inspiring moments over here.
And I have a house full of babies who shit their pants and scream alternately.
Woe is me 🙁
I hope you ate a buttload of suited strawberries! x

Stinky porn train story should have ended with Kelley being rescued by handsome MPS in a limo, lined with champers, margaritas and stuff, and taking you to a luxury hotel. (The fairy godmother would have magicked up some wonderful care for Boo of course and kept him perfectly happy for the entire duration). There, you could have enjoyed another high tea, and perhaps some bible reading and a fuck-off all-expenses paid shopping and dining experience.